


Only Hello, Never Goodbye

by larrydestielinson



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Depression, Destiel - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Multi, SPN - Freeform, Self Harm, destiel au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:21:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrydestielinson/pseuds/larrydestielinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's shy, feeling alone, since his brother's left him for a seemingly better place. He doesn't know what to do with himself. He's spent weeks, months alone, in his room holed up like some urchin but his friends seem to think it's been a long time coming. He's had enough grieving, he needs to get back into the swing of things. They drag him to a party, to open him up once again. Little does dean know, what he's been waiting for all along, falls into his lap...literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 

Dean’s woozy. He has a splitting headache, and there’s something warm and wet dripping down his face. He’s got the feeling you have when you know something’s wrong, terribly wrong but you just can’t put your finger on it. The white lights of dizziness swim over his eyes, and they begin to focus slowly but surely. 

That stupid deer is the first thing that comes to his mind. That stupid fucking deer. It just jumped out in front of them, like it had been thrust from the sky.

Dean looks about, reveling in the sight around him. A hard pressure is pulling him and a heavy feeling of dread pounds him in the chest. The truck is upside down. He’s flipped the fucking truck. 

Goddamn it, Dean! He can hear his father’s voice ringing in his ears. Sam. He’s got to make sure Sam is okay. Following the directions his father drilled into his mind from the moment Sam was born, Dean reaches over to grab for his younger brother. He touches just air. 

Panic racks his body. “Sam?” Dean calls to him, his voice cracking slightly. Don’t be scared, Dad didn't raise a pussy.

Dean notices there’s a gaping hole in the windshield and he reaches forward, attempting to crawl forth from the truck. Useless. He’s still buckled up. He unlatches the only thing that allowed him to cling to life, and pulls on the truck’s door-lever with ferocity. 

The gears click into their right places, but the door refuses to open. He pushes desperately against the door with all of his might, to no avail. The door doesn't budge. 

“Dean?” Sam’s voice, usually upbeat and chirpy, is masked with the thickness of pain. Dean’s ears perk up, and his heart jerks to attention. “Sammy?” 

Dean returns his brother’s call with a sense of false hope, that everything is okay. “Dean, I’m hurt.” The panic that was in Dean’s chest tightens up through his lungs, to grip his throat. “Sammy, it’s alright, I’m coming to get you, okay? Just stay where you are.” 

Dean attempts to move his leg, to kick out the door, until he realizes the bone of his knee is protruding from the side of his right leg. It’s impossible for him to bend it.

Dean reaches down and drags his hurt leg closer to the door, using his left leg to physically kick the door open. Glass shatters from the top of the door, scraping the ground, as Dean crawls on his hands and knee, dragging his right leg, out of the truck. Dean grips the bottom of the truck door, attempting to stand; he falls, after putting the slightest bit of pressure on his right knee. 

Sam groans from about ten feet away and Dean just aborts his plan of standing, for one of dragging himself, by his well-toned arms, to his injured brother.

Dean reaches Sam with a grunt, having left a speckled trail of blood, from the glass in his palms, on the cement. Sam is a gruesome sight. His intestines spilling from his waist, head cracked and bleeding profusely. Sam coughs up blood, before attempting to shift closer to the elder sibling. 

“Dean.” Sam’s voice is raspy with pain, and the scent of blood hangs thick and coppery in the air. Dean leans down to rub his palm over his brother’s forehead, freeing his hair from the clotted blood at his temple. Sam shivers at his brother’s touch and a small tear slips from his eye.

Reaching up, Sam touches beneath his brother’s eye and realizes he’s crying. Squinting he looks closely at Dean, his breath ragged. “Don’t cry Dean, it’s okay.” 

Dean reaches down with the hand that isn't stroking Sam’s forehead and touches underneath his eye, just as Sam had done to him. “I could say the same to you, little brother.” That earns a sickening chuckle from Sam, but the small laugh is interrupted by Sam’s wet, coughing, and a bit of blood, dribbles from the side of his mouth. 

“Don’t tell Dad, Dean. Don’t tell him that I cried.” Dean shakes his head, flinging tears from his face, they’re falling freely now. 

“I won’t tell him Sammy, but you’re going to be fine.” 

Ignoring the fact Sam must have forgotten their father has been dead for three years; Dean emphasizes the word fine with a gentle rub of his thumb across Sam’s cheek. 

“Dean, I’m dying, I know. And it’s okay, I’m not afraid, it doesn't even hurt that much…” 

Sam’s voice trails off and Dean begins sobbing, moaning his name. “Sam! Sam! SAM!” He’s shaking his brother’s shoulders with all of his might, attempting to get him to wake up. 

“Sammy, Sammy wake up! Sam, wake up right now, goddamn it!” Dean collapses over Sam’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably…


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
Dean awakens with a jolt, sweat coating his body; he shivers and runs a hand through his hair, before he pulls his feet out of the covers.

Another Sam dream, they’re happening so often now, it’s almost regular. 

The smallest part of Dean is happy he gets to see his brother again, but the rest of him, is disgusted he has to see Sam like that. Hurting so deeply and Dean just stands there, watching, incapable of doing a thing to help his baby brother.

He pads, barefooted, across the room to his bathroom, relieving himself, before stepping into the shower. The best part of this day, every day. 

He finishes his shower and slings on some jeans, riding low on his hips. He grabs the t-shirt of his, which Sam liked the most, and slips the necklace around his neck that Sam had given him when they were younger. Honestly, he feels naked without it, although he’d never admit it out loud to anyone, but Sam. He never leaves home without it.

Dean steps into his boots and goes to his bed, sitting down with a heavy groan of bed springs. 

Today was the day; he was being forced into remission of his grievance. He could no longer sit in self-pitying hatred. His friends, make that friend, was making him go out to a party.

Lord knows Dean didn't want to lose his last friend, the only one that stood by him, after he pushed every one away. He’d try to make it work; he’d try to work as hard for the friendship as Jo had.

Dean runs a slightly shaking hand through his damp hair and sighs, his shoulders falling slightly. 

He gives up the effort of trying to sit up straight, and lies back on the bed, the groan of bed springs the loudest sound in the room. He looks up at the ceiling, and crosses his arms behind his head, searching for constellations in the dots on the ceiling. 

Sam had painted them there so that when they couldn't go outside, they could still see the stars.

Sometimes when Dean looks up at the “stars”, he sees himself, standing with Sam; their arms around each other, just like in the last “family” photo they’d taken, together. What a family.

It’s just him now that Sam is gone, his parents having divorced when they were young, Dean was about 6 and Sam was 2. They’d lived with their Dad, until he left one day, and just didn't come back. They’d been in and out of foster homes, riding the rough waves of the court system, as wards of the state, until Bobby Singer took them in. 

Even when they stayed with Bobby, Dean had made it his job to take care of Sam, in fact the last memory Dean has of his father is the memory that is relived every day Dean wakes up. “Dean, take care of your brother, boy. Keep him safe, don’t let anything, and I mean ANYTHING happen to him. Do you understand?” 

His father’s voice sent shivers down his arms, raising goose bumps in their wake. “Yes, sir.” Dean’s voice shook, slightly, but then again, his voice was never steady, when speaking to his father. 

Dean blinked a couple of times at the spots on the ceiling and pushed the image of his father walking out the door, out of his mind. 

Fuck this.

Dean scoots further up on the bed and closes his eyes. I’ll just take a short nap, while I’m waiting on Jo, he thinks to himself. 

He concentrates on keeping his eyes closed, and recites a nursery rhyme to himself, one he used to sing to Sam to get him to sleep when he was a toddler. 

Soon he drips slowly into a dreamless sleep, the last thing in his mind, being Sam’s smiling face.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

“Dean, wake your lazy ass up!” 

The door slams loudly, and Jo Harvelle walks into the small apartment with normalcy as if she’s done it a million times, because she has. 

Dean, still fast asleep, lets out a snort, and turns his head to the side, re-situating into a more comfortable position.

Jo runs and takes a leap, landing on her hands and knees, next to Dean on the bed. She bounces, using mostly her hands, since they’re placed next to Dean’s head. 

Dean turns his head, and creaks open an eye to look at Jo. “What the fuck, Jo? Have you no respect for a man sleeping, in his own bed?”

Jo scoffs a laugh and shakes her head, her long golden hair tickling Dean’s face. “Hell no, I don’t! But apparently you didn't hear me the first time: Get Your Lazy Ass Up, Now.”

Jo accentuates each word, like she’s spitting them at him. 

Dean reaches up and pushes Jo’s hair off of his forehead, making a face. Jo laughs again, and stands up off of the bed, between Dean’s spread legs. 

She bends down and grabs his hands from behind his head, attempting to pull him up into a sitting position. “Come ON, Dean! You have to help me get ready for the party.” Dean sighs and lets himself be pulled by Jo, her arms surprisingly strong. 

“Alright Jo, I’m up.” He says it like he’s disappointed, but on the inside, he’s just happy she’s there, so he isn't alone with his thoughts anymore.

Jo looks down at Dean with a smile and her head turns to the side. “Go get dressed; I want to see what you’re planning on wearing to the party.” 

Dean raises an eyebrow, “You’re looking at it.” 

He stands so he’s facing her to give a better look at his clothes. Jo’s nose scrunches up and she steps back to look at him more fully. “You’re not planning on wearing that are you?” 

Dean frowns, looking down at his clothes, “Yeah, I was actually. Why, what’s wrong with it?”

Putting her finger to her pursed lips, Jo’s eyes travel up and down Dean’s torso, multiple times, before going to his closet and pulling out a less ratty t-shirt, to go with some khakis, which are so old they've got dust on them. She comes back and thrusts the clothes at him. 

“Here, wear this, and hurry up so you can help me get dressed, I need a guy’s opinion!”

Dean looks down at the pants reproachfully, and shakes his head. “Jo, there is no way in hell I’m wearing those pants. You’re lucky you’re getting me to go to this party, and since I am, I get to choose what I wear.” Dean points to himself and mentally smiles at the look on Jo’s face. 

Jo sighs and looks at Dean, taking a step towards him, putting her hand on the side of his face. “It’s just a party, it’s not like you’re going to be crucified, Dean. It’s not scary, okay? You’re just going because you need to have some fun, loosen up. Maybe get laid?” 

She waggles her eyebrows suggestively but Dean jerks back from the touch slightly and Jo drops her hand, looking broken. 

Dean looks down and tries to take a step towards her, she backs away.

“It’s fine Dean, I’m going to get dressed.” 

Dean nods, going over to the mirror, to check out the shirt Jo picked out for him, he pulls his over his head and glances at his shirtless body in the mirror, he shivers and pulls the other one on. 

A few minutes later Jo steps out of the bathroom in a black strapless mini-dress and looks at Dean. “How do I look?” She bites her lip, staring at him. 

Dean stands up from the bed and looks at Jo, smiling. “Jo, babe, you look amazing!” He runs over and gives her a lighthearted hug, grinning widely. 

Returning his smile, Jo looks down at herself, tugging anxiously at the bottom of her dress. “Thanks, you don’t look so bad yourself, Dean.” She reaches up and fixes the collar of his shirt, staring into his eyes, for a moment, before her eyes travel lower, to his lips. 

Dean feels nervous; he clears his throat and smiles, falsely. “Alright, I guess it’s time to go to this great party.” 

Dean sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of how fun it’s actually going to be, even though he’s convinced of otherwise.

“I see you changed your shirt, but not the pants?” Jo cocks an eyebrow at him and crosses her arms over her well accentuated chest. 

Dean’s eyes don’t flicker anywhere but up to Jo’s as he meets her gaze with a goofy lopsided grin. “I figured, I could let you be half-right for once in your life.” Jo laughs and then grabs her clutch-purse, and walks out the door, rushing Dean. 

He stands alone, for a moment in his small apartment and looks up at the “stars” painted on the ceiling, thinking of Sam before he walks out into the hall, and shuts the door with a small click, behind him. 

“I’ll make you proud, Sammy.”


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It’s few hours into the party and Dean has been on the same couch, mashed between two kissing couples for the past hour. 

He hasn't moved. 

He’s on his third beer, drinking to imagine he’s somewhere different, and on top of the situation, Jo’s grinding with some guy on the dance floor. 

It’s not the fact she’s grinding on him that bothers Dean; it’s the look on her face. She’s staring straight at Dean, with her hands traveling all along the guy’s body she’s dancing with, it’s like she’s devouring Dean with her eyes. In her mind, she’s dancing with Dean.

Dean’s known for a while, about Jo’s feelings for him. It’s not really in outspoken language, but Dean can see it in her eyes, when she looks at him, or feel it in her touch, whenever she lingers in on his hug. 

He sighs, shaking his head and quickly moves his gaze to something else in the room, that’s caught his attention. Dean notices the most popular couple in the school, standing by the keg, and they don’t look very happy. 

The girl had her hands on his chest pulling him down to her, but the guy, pushes her away. Why’d he do that for? 

Dean’s curiosity piques as he looks away, down at his cup. The noise in the house, a faint buzzing in his ears.

Dean watches as the girl walks away from the guy, in a very noticeable huff. 

Dean shakes his head and pushes himself up off the couch, attempting not to disturb the occupied couples. 

He stands shaking himself slightly, a sudden dizziness whooshing over him. He makes a mental note, to pick up some Tylenol on the way home, for an oncoming migraine, as he walks towards the keg to fill up his cup for the last time. 

Staring around the room, glancing from body to body, watching them gyrate in time with the music. 

Another glance at Jo, still basically humping her dance partner and Dean can feel the slight burn of bile in the back of his throat. 

A different dizziness settles over him, and Dean walks unsteadily over to the stairs, bumping into a few others as he walks slowly up to the second floor. He knocks on door, after door, until he finds a bedroom that’s dark, but uninhibited. 

He stumbles in and collapses on the bed, sitting there with his head in his hands. Thinking to himself, why does Jo act like that, she knows we’re just friends, she knows…. 

He sighs deeply, ignoring the last little bit of that thought and lays flush, down on top of the comforter before pulling his boots off and crawling under the covers. I’ll just take a small nap, to clear my head. Dean stares at the ceiling, imaginary dots, swimming before his eyes, as he lets them slowly flutter closed.

***************

“Hey, Jo, can I tell you something?” Dean’s eyes wide, his voice quivering on the brink of nervousness and excitement. 

He looks at her, as she’s standing in front of him, and sees a smile cross her lips. “Sure, Dean. What is it?” 

Jo takes her usual spot beside Dean on his bed, it being where they watch television, when Dean feels like socializing, or maybe when Jo forces herself in on him; saying he needs more human contact. 

Dean sighs and looks down at his hands, hands that he’d been absentmindedly wringing for the past twenty minutes. 

Jo notices that he’s trying to find the right words, and slides closer to him, hoping to ease some of his tension, by placing her hand on his shoulder, close to the base of his neck.

Dean looks at her, and makes an exasperated noise, staring directly into Jo’s eyes. 

He turns to her and says it as blatantly as possible, “Jo, I think I’m gay.” 

The look on Jo’s face is unrecognizable. 

He’d never seen her look that…hurt, angry, deceived before, and it hurt him that he was the one that caused her to look that way. 

Jo looks at him, her eyes hard and she barks a scornful and short laugh. 

“No you’re not, Dean.” 

“Yes, I am Jo.” 

Jo rolls her eyes, before retorting, “How could you even know? You've never been with a woman before.” She slides her hand down to Dean’s chest and lowers her gaze. 

Dean levels his voice and takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. 

“Jo, I haven’t been with a woman before, because I’m not attracted to them, not because I can’t get a girlfriend.” 

Jo slides her hand lower, ignoring his words. 

“Maybe you just need to be with a woman, and then you’ll realize just how straight you really are, Dean.” 

Dean grabs her hand, pulling it away from his abdomen, forcefully. “What is it you want, Jo?” 

“Dean, I want you to want me and when you were so sad, after the accident I felt like you needed me. I felt like you would love me, because I was there for you. Because I loved you.” Her voice is cracking, not from tears, from anger. 

“That’s because I did. I needed a friend. I thank you for being there for me, Jo. But that’s it. All I can do is thank you.” 

“You didn't even give us a try, Dean.” 

Dean captures a breath before forcing the words out of his mouth, like vomit, “Jo, I don’t think you heard me, I’ll say it again okay? Pay attention: I’m Gay.” 

The hurt on Jo’s face was unblemished, and a small twinge of regret at his words, surfaced in Dean’s heart. 

Jo jerks her hand away from Dean’s and she stands up, furiously grabbing her purse, and coat, stomping to the door. Dean stands up and steps forward, before stopping, whispering her name. 

“Jo…” She stops, and turns on a heel, her hair flying out around her shoulders, a golden veil. 

“What Dean?” She looks at him as if he’s the most repugnant thing she’s ever laid eyes upon, and spits the words at him, like a snake preying on its victim.

“Jo, I’m sorry if I hurt you, but I can’t hide who I am, I’d be lying to myself, and lying to you. I love you like a friend Jo, like a sister even. You were there for me when everyone else left; you were the only one who cared. I thought you’d still care, because I need you now, just as much as I needed you when Sammy….When Sammy left.” 

Dean’s voice cracked at the mention of his brother’s name and he takes a shaky breath, looking down at his boots. 

“I’m trying Jo, I really am. I’m trying to be me again, and telling you this is helping me get better, to move on.” 

He walks towards her, eyes still on the ground. He stops a few feet in front of her and glances up. 

Jo’s crying.

“Dean, I’m not mad, I just..You know.... I thought you knew how I felt about you... How I still feel about you.” 

Dean shakes his head, feeling dumbfounded. “Jo, you know how blind I can be sometimes.” 

She laughs loudly and nods, wiping tears from her face. 

He walks towards her, encasing her in his arms, hugging her tightly to him. 

He pulls away, wiping the remaining tears from her face, smearing her makeup onto his fingers and looking down to wipe it onto his ratty jeans. 

When his eyes gaze back up to meet hers, he’s taken by surprise when Jo’s lips meet his with a forceful one-sided passion. 

He stands there, eyes wide open, in shock for a moment, before pulling away gracefully. 

He places his hands on her shoulders. 

“Nothing, Jo. Nothing at all. And believe me, you’re one of the most beautiful women on the planet, if I don’t feel anything with you, I won’t feel anything with any woman.” 

Jo smiles sadly, and nods, walking out the door, closing it quietly behind her. 

Dean presses three fingers to his lips softly and wipes off the feeling of Jo from his mouth, “So much for my first kiss,” Dean’s voice is shaky, as he walks into the kitchen and sits heavily in a chair at the table, placing his head in his hands.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Castiel Novak, drunkenly walks to the third room, of the night, just looking for somewhere to lie down, somewhere he can talk to himself without looking crazy. Apparently it’s frowned upon to talk to yourself out loud in public. 

He shakes his head as he stumbles shakily into the room, and stubs his toe on the bed frame. 

“Son of a bitch!” 

His voice is loud, and he sits down heavily on the bed, bending at the waist to check his toe, so drunk he doesn't realize he’s still got on his shoes. He gives up on looking at his foot, and leans back on the bead, his head hitting something hard. 

He springs up and turns around, hitting whatever’s under the covers with an open palm. 

“What the fuck?” Dean comes to, still groggy from his dream, opening his eyes partially before jerking up in the bed, nervous. “What’re you doing in here?” 

Cas laughs and replies, “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m sitting.” 

Dean stifles a smile and sits up the rest of the way, back leaning against the bed frame.

“I know you. You’re the kid at school, who works like three jobs and stays in the library during lunch, right?” 

Dean’s surprised Castiel even knows who he is. 

“Yeah, that’s me.” Dean nods, and shivers, slightly, a feeling he’s never felt before rising up in his stomach. The smile in Cas’ voice is noticeable and he reaches behind him to hold out his hand to Dean. 

“I’m Castiel. Cas.” 

“Dean Winchester” 

Cas lets go of Dean’s hand, feeling his clam up slightly. 

“What brings you in here, tonight Dean?” Cas questions, looking at him, both of their eyes masked in the dark. 

“Well, I was just looking for somewhere to sleep off a headache, but now, it’s even worse. It sucks.” 

Cas nods, “I know how that feels. I've had a headache all week.”   
The tone in Cas’ voice is noticed by Dean, “Does it have anything to do with that fight you were having with your girlfriend?” 

Blushing red, Castiel shifts slightly on the bed, uncomfortable. 

“You saw that, huh? Was it that noticeable?” Dean slides out from under the covers, and sidles next to Cas, shaking his head. 

“No, it’s not; I just tend to pay close attention to the little things. You want to talk about it?” He looks at Cas’ face, surprised when he nods, considering Dean was expecting Castiel to say no. 

“Can I be honest with you, Dean?” Cas smiles at the nod of Dean’s head. 

“Honestly, she’s pressuring me, to sleep with her, and she won’t take no for an answer. I keep telling her I want it to be special and romantic and she just keeps calling me a queer, telling me I need to get it over with, so I can “become a man.” He sighs and shakes his head, his eyes meeting Dean’s. 

“Do you think I’m a girl for not just sleeping with her, already?”

Dean’s mind is wheeling when he answers, hoping it’s not too fast. “No, I don’t think you’re being a girl. I think it’s sweet you want your first time to be special, I feel the same way. It’s important.” 

“Yeah, makes me upset that people don’t see it that way, anymore. It’s just something to get rid of. Like it’s some sort of burden.” He scoffs, and looks at Dean. 

Dean’s gaze travels to Cas’ lips and back up to his eyes, a smoldering tension is hidden in the conversation. “Sex is special and should be done with the right person, at the right time.” Cas smiles at Dean’s answer and places his arm around Dean’s shoulders, maneuvering them closer together, so they’re shoulder to shoulder, seeming suddenly disinterested in his “girlfriend.”

“What about you, find anyone you’re interested in?” 

The question hanging in the air is thick with sabotage, but Dean bites the bait, “Yeah, actually I have.” 

He “accidentally” nudges Cas’ ribs and earns a small laugh from him. Reveling in this, Dean begins tickling Cas mercilessly. 

“Dean, Dean STOP! Stop, that tickles! Dean, okay, okay! Fine, whatever you want!” 

A sly thought crosses Dean’s mind, and he’s never felt this way before, so empowered, so himself. He looks down at Cas, who is now lying on his back protecting his sides, and Dean hovers his face close to Cas’ cheek. 

“Anything?” 

Dean’s whisper is soft and silky in Castiel’s ear, earning an involuntary shiver from him. 

“Anything.” 

He replies, and stares into Dean’s eyes, a deep hunter green, his own eyes having finally adjusted to the darkness.

Dean leans down, closer to Castiel’s mouth and smiles, breathing breath into him, their eyes meeting in a gaze, resembling molten lava. Cas leans up, closing the distance between them and hovers his lips right in front of Dean’s, before pressing them closely together, meshing in a slow give and take of breath from one another’s lungs. Dean sighs heavily, lying part of his chest on Cas’ as the kiss continues, the room grows hot, fast. Their faces smudged together like fingerprints on glass.  
Dean reaches his hand up, to graze the base of Cas’ throat with a gentle touch, but the skin, jerks underneath his fingertips. Cas’ voice is heard, between the movement of lips, “Dean.” 

The voice, registered to Dean, but still so deliciously unfamiliar, he pulls away from the kiss, looking at Cas. 

“Can I tell you something?” 

Dean’s head bobs in agreement and the words out of Cas’ mouth next are a slight bit surprising to Dean, “I’m gay.” 

Dean looks at him with an eyebrow raised and he smiles, nodding, attempting to lean back into Cas’ mouth, to connect them once again.

Castiel pulls away, “You don’t care? That I’m gay?” 

Dean shrugs, unable to speak of his own homosexuality, afraid of; well not exactly sure what he’s afraid of, but still afraid. 

Cas pulls away from Dean, distant, before he stands up, walking towards the door, Dean trailing behind him, grabbing his wrist before Castiel can reach for the door. 

“Why’re you leaving, Cas?” 

“I just, I can’t, Dean. I’m sorry. I’m not going to do that to you.”  
His voice is wrecked, sounding like he's just ran miles and miles without water.

He walks out of the room, leaving Dean, hanging, butterflies flitting up through his body. 

“Do what to me?” His voice is barely above as whisper as Dean’s thoughts crowd his mind. 

He walks home alone, strangely sobered up, as if kissing Cas had been the only thing to make him think straight.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Having tossed and turned all night, Dean lies awake in bed, up quite a few hours, before he should be. With one arm behind his head, he gazes up at the stars on the ceiling, thoughts of not Sam, but Castiel filling his mind. 

He’s the only person that Dean has thought about, other than Sam, since the accident and he’s a little confused. He thought things were going alright, what happened? Dean had felt confident for the first time, for the first time ever, how could it have ended so shittily? 

Dean sighs, and turns on his left side, propping his head on his hand so he can stare at actual stars for a moment. 

A flash of startling blue plays across his eyes, and it takes Dean aback. 

Cas’ eyes. They’re so beautiful, so charming, and so honest. 

As if his gaze can see into your soul, see your heart’s true desire. That thought makes Dean’s head swim. 

He stares up at the full moon through the blinds covering his one small window and he sighs, lying flat on his bed again, pressing his palms into his eye sockets.

What am I going to do? 

The answer hits Dean like a ton of bricks, and he reaches down to his chest where his necklace sits. He fingers the warm brass before letting it sit comfortably against the small sprinkling of hairs on his chest. 

Taking a deep breath he speaks out loud, “Cas, I’m gay, too. I’m sorry I didn't tell you.” 

He exhales and smiles weakly. Maybe Cas won’t be mad I didn't tell him? Dean knows the chances of that being true are slight but it doesn't keep him from hoping. 

He manages to catch about half an hour’s more of shut-eye before he gets up to go start some coffee.

The moment his feet hit the floor the buzz of his cell phone occupies his mind. 

He reaches into the pocket of the pants he wore the past night, to receive his cheap Tracfone. 

Jo’s voice is a sound for sore ears, “Dean, what the hell happened last night? I finished dancing with Peter and went to talk to you, but you were gone?” 

Jo’s voice sounds the slightest bit irritated, making Dean wince at her tone. 

“I left. I got smashed, and I came home so I could stumble around, shitfaced, in my own house.” 

He laughs loudly at his joke and can hear Jo roll her eyes on the receiving end of the call. 

“Did you at least get laid, last night? ’Cause let me tell you, Peter is –“ 

Her voice is cut off by a sound of disgust from Dean and Jo laughs. 

“Sorry Dean, he was just so, cute!” 

It’s Dean’s turn to roll his eyes, “You’re not sorry and he wasn't that cute.” 

He couldn't help himself. A tone of sarcastic surprise is evident in Jo’s voice, “What would you know about him being cute? You can’t get a girlfriend, much less a boyfriend!” 

The last word hits Dean hard, like a punch in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. 

“Yeah, well….It’s because I don’t want one!” 

Dean hopes that doesn't sounds as false as he thinks it does. 

“Right. Whatever you say, Dean. I just wanted to call and check to make sure you hadn't died.”

“Jo.” 

Dean’s voice broke around her name. Jo hadn't realized what she had said, and Dean knew it, but it still hurt, worse than anything she’d ever said to him. 

His numb fingertips immediately rose up to graze the small lump of brass that sat between his chest muscles. Touching it lightly he cleared his throat, “Well, I’m going to go.” 

Dean’s voice breaks before Jo interrupts. 

“Alright, I’ll let you go, but Dean? I’m sorry.” 

The falseness of her apology clung to Dean like a permeating fog and he shook off the creepy crawly feeling he had. 

“It’s fine, Jo. Bye.” 

He hung up with a click of the phone folding closed, and he tossed it onto his bed, near his pillow. 

Reaching up Dean ran fingers through his mussed bed-head and sighed deeply. Why was Jo always saying things like that? It was like she was trying to work Dean out of being sad about Sammy’s accident, and if that’s what it was, it sure wasn't working. 

Lately she’d been less caring, like the more Dean tried, tried to be normal again, the more she bitched. He thought that’s what she wanted, for him to go back to normal. 

Dean walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge door, staring hard at its emptiness. No matter, he hadn't been eating much lately, anyway. 

Making his rounds about the small cluttered apartment, he grabbed the cleanest of his ratty jeans and some boxer-briefs, heading to the bathroom. Stepping into the steaming water, Dean stands with his head down, feeling his body being soaked. He braces himself for the sobs that usually rack his body when he steps into the shower, but they don’t come. 

This surprises Dean. 

He reaches up, grazing the back of his hand over his eyes before looking up at the water. 

Cas’ blue eyes flash across his once again, making the butterflies flit to life. Dean smiles absentmindedly at the unusual feeling of warmth spreading through him at the thought of Castiel. He steps out of the shower and towels off. 

Cas.

Just the thought of the name brought a mix of excitement and sadness to Dean’s heart. Hopefully Castiel wasn't too upset with him.

Dean had no time to think about possible crushes and wayward friends. 

He set foot out of the door, and ran down the two flights of stairs, two at a time, since the elevator is so slow. Reaching his car, a flash of remembrance tainted his vision. 

***************

The lights brighten then get dimmer, Dean’s vision is blurry, and he hears the most agonizingly, irritating sound, as his body is jostled. He blanks out, and then open his eyes again, staring directly ahead. 

He’s lying down on a gurney, its wheels screeching, echoing throughout the hall. Three masked faces, in mint-green scrubs surround him. Two are pushing the makeshift bed, and a third is holding an I.V. bag, high above her short frame. 

He hears loud voices, and he tries to turn his head in the direction of the sound, but his neck is wrapped in a brace. 

It’s too hard to concentrate, on any one thing, everything’s moving about him so gracefully fast. Like gazelles, running from a pouncing lion. 

It’s too hard to breathe…

He begins to fade out, but a voice quickly snaps him back to reality. 

“Dean.” 

Dean looks towards his feet and Sam’s there, at least he thinks its Sam. It’s an older version of Sam, with long hair and stubble, it’s all a strange sight. 

“Dean, Dean it’s me. It’s Sam.” 

Dean tries to speak, but his voice is muffled by an oxygen mask. Dean attempts to reach up, but the doctors stop him. 

“Dean, don’t do that. Just listen to my voice, okay? I love you. I’m not being a pansy, I’m being honest. You were a great brother; you always took care of me, thank you for that. But Dean, you have to let me go. Let me go, Dean. Please. It’s okay, I’ll be fine. And so will you.” 

Sam vanishes before his eyes, as Dean reaches his hands out for him. 

“Sammy! Sammy, don’t go! Don’t leave me!” 

Dean’s voice is cracking, breaking just like his spirit; his hope having vanished with Sam. Everything he loved, his last little bit of hope, gone.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Dean drops into his body, tears stinging the backs of his eyes, “Sammy. Sammy, I miss you so much.” 

Somehow, during his flashback he’d made it to Sam’s grave and had fallen down on his knees, beating the earth beneath his hands. 

“Why? God, why? Why didn't you take me? He was a kid. He was so smart. He was gonna play baseball. Gonna make it to the majors…He was gonna make somethin’ of himself…” 

His voice drifts off, and his tears thicken around his breathing, and fall, dampening Sam’s grave. The small granite stone, with Sam’s name on it, shines brightly in the sun, just now peaking out shyly behind a couple of gray clouds. Dean reaches out and runs his fingertips over Sam’s name carved in the stone, stone he paid for out of pocket. 

“Sammy, I love you too. You….” 

Dean can’t bring himself to say any more. He stands up, wiping the last of the tears from his face, and looks longingly at the sky, sickly hoping Sam will emerge from the earth, and he can take his place; so his baby brother can do what Dean feels he was destined to do. 

“Later, Sammy.” 

Walking towards his car, Dean once again, has control over his breathing, and sets off in a hurried frenzy towards the shop. 

************

Arriving moments before being late, Dean rushes into the back, pulling on his greasy over suit, zipping it part-the-way, not caring if his ratty t-shirt gets a little dirty. Rolling up the sleeves to his elbows, just the way he likes, Dean walks over to Charlie. 

“Hey, what we got?” 

Charlie nods a hello towards Dean, stands up, after having found the correct tool and points a grease coated finger towards the hood of an open car. Charlie’s rough voice fills the empty space, echoing coolly through the room, bouncing from car to car. 

“Blew their motor, dumbasses.” 

Charlie’s finger moves to the car to the far right of the room, up on a lift, “New wheel bearings.” 

He points to the last car in the garage, it was also up on a lift, to the far left. 

“Oil-change. Messy.” 

Charlie shakes his head, grumbling under his breath, “When are people gonna learn to do things for themselves? Never, it’s always easier for someone else to do it…..” Charlie’s incessant complaining is something Dean’s used to, he just tunes it out. He so graciously chooses the oil-change. 

Humming along to the music as he works, keeping his thoughts away from everything that could hurt, Dean is soon up to his elbows in grease and the scent is overwhelming. 

Dean’s lowered the car almost all the way down, when the mechanic shop’s secretary calls his name. 

“Dean, there’s someone here to see you!” 

He wipes off his arms as best he can and tells Charlie he’ll be back in a few minutes, hearing a grunt in response, he walks out of the garage door and his mouth drops open at the sight. 

Castiel is standing there, in front of him, with a gorgeous - put the sun to shame - smile. 

Castiel’s eyes brighten as soon as he sees Dean, and then the brightness is replaced by the smallest twinge of sadness, which tugs at Dean’s heart, making the butterflies come alive once again.

“Hey, Dean.” 

Cas’ voice is so low and sultry. 

Stopping a few feet in front of Cas, Dean takes a giant breath, trying desperately to steady his heartbeat. It’s ineffective. 

“Cas, what’re you doing here?” 

Dean’s voice is laced with an underlying sound of excitement, although he attempted indifference. Castiel smiles shyly at Dean and steps a little bit closer. 

“I wanted to apologize for leaving so quickly last night; it was really rude of me.” 

His eyes are so blue… Dean attempts to distract himself by kicking up dust around his feet. 

“It’s fine, Cas. It was my fault. I should’ve…” 

A hand fists itself around Dean’s heart and squeezes, his stomach dropping. Why’s he being such a girl? Dean sighs, and looks up, meeting Cas’ eyes. He can’t help but to smile. Cas is looking directly into his and the tension between them is electric.

“So, Cas, is one of these cars we’re workin’ on, yours?” 

Dean tries to change the subject, end the awkward silence, but Cas continues it with a shake of his head. 

A few seconds of Cas trying to catch Dean’s eye, and Dean avoiding his gaze, later, Cas’ voice is heard over the roar of engines, passing by the shop, on the road. 

“Nah, I actually came to see you.” 

“How’d you get here? Did someone drop you off?” 

Dean’s confusion is obvious. 

Cas laughs with another swift shake of his head, “No, no one dropped me off. I walked.” 

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, in surprise. 

“You walked here? Why? We’re like 2 miles from town, Cas!” 

Dean’s voice is shrill and Cas smiles, shrugging. 

“It’s not that far a walk, Dean.” He looks down, blushing slightly, “Plus, I kinda wanted to see you.” 

A small smile plays across Dean’s lips and he looks up, at Cas’ face, his eyes shining bright. 

“You wanted to see me? Really? Why?” 

A flirty tone playing in his voice, Dean watches the blush rise a little bit hotter in Castiel’s face. Shrugging again, Cas looks up to meet Dean’s eyes. 

“Just wanted to apologize for last night and to….” 

His voice fades; he drops his eyes low and takes a deep breath. Dean doesn’t let it go that easy, “Wanted to what, Cas?” 

Leaning forward on his toes, he shoves his hands into his pockets and clears his throat, “Look, there’s a diner on Main, can we meet there tonight, after you get off work? What time do you get off work?” 

His voice nervous, but so is Dean’s, “Six. I get off at six.” 

“Will you meet me, Dean? Please? We need to talk.” 

Dean nods, “Yeah, Cas. I’ll meet you there, but only if you call someone to come and get you so you don’t have to walk.” 

Cas laughs easily, and nods, taking Dean’s phone out of his hand, calling a friend. A few minutes later, Cas is in their car, and he’s headed back towards town. 

“Bye, Dean!” Practically hanging out of the window to wave at Dean; Cas’ voice is loud, over the sound of the car, Dean shivered at his name being said by that beautiful mouth.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Dean pulls up to the diner, having been lost for the last twenty minutes. He checks his face in the rear-view mirror, before catching himself and blushing, mentally kicking himself for acting like a girl. Is it a date? That’s the only thing that’s been on his mind since he watched Cas pull away from the shop. 

He’d been in an exceptionally good mood all day, which rarely happens and Charlie had been ragging on him about it since Cas left. 

He takes a deep breath and steps out of the car, shutting it with a groaning click. 

He shook off the worrisome feeling and ducked his head down to the cold, pulling up the collar of his coat around his neck, so it brushed the bottom of his chin. 

He takes another deep breath, trying to shove the butterflies down, which are trying to escape from his mouth. 

Dean’s hit with a big blast of heat to the face, when he opens the door. He steps in and looks around; a few couples, three old men at the bar, and Cas. 

Sitting alone, Castiel is there, his knee jumping a mile a minute bouncing his foot on the floor, while he taps his fingers nervously on the mahogany table. Dean steps back, watching Cas for a moment, His eyes raking over Castiel’s beautiful face, a face full of worry, wondering if Dean is going to show. Just as Dean’s eyes travel past Cas’ lips, Castiel’s head jerks up and a beautiful heart-wrenching smile is playing across his face; replacing the look of worry.

Walking to the table and standing next to him, Dean looks down at Cas, returning his smile, nervously. 

“Hey Cas.” 

“Dean, you made it! For a minute I thought you had flaked on me.” 

The joy in his voice is noticed by Dean, and his heart begins pumping quicker than before. 

“Nah, Cas. I wouldn’t flake, I just…I got lost.” 

Cas laughs, watching Dean’s back and the bunch of his jeans around his butt as he sits down across from him, in the booth. 

“You got lost?” 

The curiosity peeking out shyly in the tone of Castiel’s voice, as he smiles at Dean, the laugh still playing in his words. Dean nods; “Yeah, I don’t get out very often,” Dean’s voice is shaky, as he shrugs, looking at Cas. “Sorry, I was late. I went home to take a shower. Not many people like the smell of oil and grease. And then I, y’know….I got lost.” Dean laughs, shaking his head, catching Cas’ eye, a jolt of electricity passes through them like a current.

“I do.” 

Cas’ voice is soft. 

Dean cocks his head to the side, staring at Cas with curiosity. 

“You do what, Cas?” 

“You said no one likes the smell of oil and grease…I do. It’s comforting.” 

Dean smiles and shakes his head, “Whatever you say, Cas.” Looking down, Dean starts to play with a scuff mark on the table. 

“So, why is it you asked me to come here?” 

The real meaning of the question is just underneath the words, noticeable by anyone who listens to the tone of Dean’s voice. 

Castiel’s hand comes up to run through his short hair, stopping at the base of his skull to rub his neck. 

He sighs and stares into Dean’s eyes with a shy smile, “I like you, Dean. I wanted to get to know you, that’s why I asked you to come here. I felt like we left on a bad-note last night at the party. I…I wanted to make it up to you.” 

Dean smiles inwardly, his heart pittering faster than he’s ever felt before, as he looks at Cas. Disbelief crosses his eyes. 

“You like me? You don’t even know me. How could you like someone you don’t even know?” 

Dean laughs, watching Castiel sigh and shake his head. Cas places his hand on the table. 

“That’s just it, Dean. I don’t know you! That’s why I like you.” 

“Cas, that doesn't make any sense.” 

“Yes, it does. I don’t know anything about you, and that’s what I like about you. The fact that I don’t have to pretend to love every little thing, I don’t know you, but I already know I’m gonna love everything about you. That’s a sign Dean.” 

Castiel’s voice is quick with nervousness as he stares deeply into Dean’s eyes. Dean laughs his own nervousness out of his chest and smiles. 

“You’re a weird guy, Cas. It’s kinda cute.” 

Cas’ grin is blinding and he leans forward in the booth, closer to Dean. 

“I have an idea, let’s play twenty questions. That way I can learn everything I already know I’m going to love about you.” 

Dean laughs at Castiel, nodding in agreement. He slams his hand on the table, making Cas jump, “Fine! But I get to go first.” 

Cas nods, making a hand gesture, telling him to proceed. 

“Alright, first question. How the hell did you find out I work up at the shop?” 

This earns an open-mouthed grin from Cas as he shrugs. 

“I dunno; guess I’m just a good stalker.” 

He winks, sinking back into his side of the booth with a smug look on his face. 

“You’re full of it. You didn’t actually follow me…Did you?” 

Cas laughs again, at Dean’s nervousness, shaking his head ferociously. 

“No! I saw your friend Jo; I think that’s her name. I saw her, up at the library and asked her where you usually hung out. She told me where you worked and I took it upon myself to come for a visit. I wanted to see you.” 

“Oh, so it’s Jo I can blame for this?” 

Dean gestures between them and watches horrified as a hurt look places itself painstakingly on Castiel’s face. Cas picks up his smile again, albeit false and rolls his eyes. 

“It’s her you have to thank for this, actually. You know you’re having a good time. Why do you have to fight so hard against it, Dean?” Leaning forward, Dean sighs, an apologetic look on his face.

Dean's voice is low as he whispers to Castiel.

“Hey, can we get out of here?” Nodding, Cas and Dean walk out of the restaurant, towards Dean’s car. 

“Did you walk here, too?” 

Castiel laughs, “No. I got dropped off by my ex-girlfriend.” 

Dean can’t help but smile as he cranks the car, looking over at Cas, he asks “Why’d you guys break up?” 

“I told her I was gay and that I had a crush on someone but that doesn't count as a question!” 

Dean’s heart was beating on overdrive once again, not like it ever stopped. 

“Your turn, Cas.” Dean’s voice was low, gruff, in a good way. 

“Do you like me, Dean?” 

His voice serious, Cas stares straight ahead, waiting to have his heart crushed. 

“Yeah, I do like you Cas. When you left last night, it made me sad that I had hurt your feelings enough to where you didn’t want to be in the same room with me.” 

“No, that’s not it at all. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. I guess it’s just that I didn't want to force myself on you, what if you weren't sure about who you are and I pushed you away? That would suck.” 

Dean smiles, “It’s alright, I just, I’ve only told one person about that part of me and it didn't go very well.” 

“Jo?” 

Cas looks down at his lap, playing with his fingers, nervous hearing Dean sigh. 

“Yeah, Jo. When I came out to her, she was mad. She took me by surprise and just kissed me out of nowhere. I had no idea she even felt that way about me. I guess she's still kinda pissed at me. Then she told me she has had this thing for me since we were little and well, here we are.” 

“Can’t blame her, Dean. You are a total hunk.” 

Castiel’s voice held the tone of a Valley Girl, as Dean’s blush travels down his collarbone and Castiel laughs. 

“You blush so easily, you know. It’s cute.” 

Dean smiles and rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

Pulling the car over, light fills the small space in the car. Cas looks out the window with a smile on his face and glances over at Dean, watching as Dean opens the car door and steps out. He walks over and sits on the hood. He turns around and bends, looking into the car, “Get out, Cas!” A smile plays across Castiel’s lips as he opens the car door, taking a look at the world around him. 

They’re parked on a cliff, above a lake. The full moon is sparkling across the water, lighting everything around them.

“So, who’s that person you have a crush on?” 

Dean smiles, watching Castiel slide up onto the hood beside him. 

Cas meets Dean’s eyes and licks the corner of his lips before answering, “You. I like you.”

His heart feels like it’s about to explode, as Dean leans closer to Castiel. 

Dean’s lips close to his, Cas shudders at the breath from Dean’s mouth wisping across his lips. A sigh escapes the both of them when their lips finally meet. Cas reaches up and places his hand on Dean’s jaw, pressing their lips firmly together. They pull apart reluctantly after a breathless moment of their lips entangling. 

“Wow. That was almost better than the first time.” Castiel’s eyes are bright with the sound of the words as he stares at Dean. Dean smiles, licking his lips. 

Cas reaches over and lays his hand atop Dean’s, between them. 

“Tell me about yourself Dean. Why don’t you get out very often?” 

Sighing, Dean pulls his hand away, against Castiel’s tightening grip. 

“I don’t know, I just don’t.” 

“Don’t lie to me, Dean. It’s okay, you can tell me.” 

Dean runs a hand through his hair, exasperated, defeated.. “Fine. But you asked for it. I’ve been alone for the past couple years. I don’t have many friends or any family unless you count Bobby. He was a friend of my Dad’s.” 

Nodding, Castiel catches Dean’s eye, “Any siblings?” 

A catch lands in Dean’s throat and he shakes his head, muttering something so faint, under his breath. 

“What did you say?” 

“I said “Not anymore.” 

Castiel, prying gently, “What do you mean?” 

Feeling emotional Dean just shakes his head attempting to change the subject. Castiel doesn’t allow this to happen. 

“It’s okay.” Placing a gentle hand on Dean’s shoulder, squeezing tightly; Castiel looks at Dean, earnestly.

“My….My brother Sam and I. We got into an accident a couple years ago and…Sammy..Sammy didn’t…..He didn’t make it, Cas. It’s all my fault, I killed him, I killed my baby brother.” Dean breaks apart under Castiel’s touch. Slumping, he places his tear-stained face in his hand, letting himself be pulled into Castiel’s warm, open side. 

“Shhhh, Dean. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It was an accident, a freak accident.” 

Dean pushes himself away from Cas, disgusted, not at Castiel, at himself. 

“You don’t understand, you weren't there! I did it. It was my fault, Cas!” 

Hugging Dean close to him, Castiel rubs his back. 

Dean had never gotten over his brother’s accident, no wonder he didn’t get out much, he blamed himself. He didn't deserve to live, so therefore he didn't have a life. 

But Castiel knows it wasn’t his fault and he needed Dean to realize that it wasn’t his fault. 

“Dean, look at me.” 

Grabbing Dean’s chin, Castiel forces their eyes to lock, “It isn’t your fault, it’s not.” 

A choked sob racks Dean’s chest and he nods, “It is……”


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

“Cause I’m back in black, yes I’m back in black!” 

Dean’s voice sounding familiar to that of ACDC’s lead singer, he pounds his hands on the steering wheel, happily. He always did enjoy listening to his favorite music in the car. 

Just then he hears a sigh and looks over at Sam, who’s leaning forward to turn the radio. Dean’s hand reaches out fast to slap Sam’s down, away from the knob. 

“Sam. I thought we talked about this, I drive, I get to pick the music.” 

Sam’s lip curls, in resemblance to Elvis’, “You ALWAYS drive.” 

“That’s because it’s MY truck.” 

“C’mon Dean. I’m gonna be getting my permit soon! Let me drive. Just once.” 

Ignoring the plea in Sam’s voice, Dean scoffs lightly. 

“Yeah, right. You’re only 13, Sammy. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you drive my truck.” 

Unhappily, Sam reaches over again to try to grip the radio dials. Dean’s hand snaps out and jerks Sam’s hat off his head. 

He’s startled hearing Sam’s annoyed voice, “Dean, give me my damn hat!” 

Dean laughs, accidentally dropping it at his feet. 

Reaching down, Dean takes his eyes off the road for just a second, and is paralyzed by Sam’s screeching, “DEAN! DEER!” 

Dean tried so hard to cover Sammy, to keep him from getting hurt, but he didn't have a seat-belt on….

***********

Dean is curled into a ball, pressed tightly to Castiel’s side. 

“It’s all my fault, the one time he doesn't wear a seat-belt and I do. I killed him Cas. I did, I killed my baby brother.” 

Tears are falling freely from Dean’s eyes, shining bright like the green of his irises. 

Castiel touches his eyes, thumbing over Dean’s closed eyelids, catching tears. 

“Dean, it isn’t your fault, okay? It was an accident, and you can’t blame yourself. Things like that happen all the time, you can’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. Do you understand me?” 

Castiel forces Dean’s chin up, causing their eyes to meet and Dean nods, solemnly. Cas presses his quivering lips to Dean’s forehead, hearing a small intake of breath from Dean. This causes him to smile. 

“Dean, I…..” 

Stopping his words, Castiel changes his mind, not now. It’s not time yet. 

He pulls Dean closer to him, if at all possible, and presses his lips to Dean’s soft hair. Dean smiles around the last of his falling tears and looks up at Castiel. 

“Cas, thank you. You’re the first person to actually care, other than Jo but I think she’s just around to try to get me to fuck her. But you…You’re here, for me. You want to know me; you want to like me-..” 

His words are cut off by lips pressing against his. Stealing the breath from his lungs, and taking it for his own; Castiel smiles against the escaped sigh, from Dean’s lips.

“I already like you.” 

A wide grin explodes from Dean’s mouth, as he presses their lips together again. 

“I like you, too.” 

Speaking against Cas’ lips, as he pulls away. Dean reaches up and rubs his fingers over the necklace sitting above his heart. 

Castiel’s eyes glance down and watch Dean’s hands with intensity. 

“Was that….Was that Sam’s?” 

Dean nods, smiling fondly at the memories that come to his mind. 

“Yeah, he gave it to me for Christmas…” 

Nodding, Castiel puts his hand on Dean’s. 

“This may be a bit forward, but I’d love to see you again. Not only once, either. I’d love to see you, period.” 

Dean smiles, “Lots of times?” 

“Lots of times.” 

Castiel nods his agreement. 

That was it. 

They finished out the date, and had several more that week, eventually falling into a simple routine, becoming each other’s boyfriend, only it was more than that…


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

A couple weeks later, and a lot of late-night, whispered, conversations later, Dean and Cas are together. 

At school they hang out, they eat lunch together. Castiel sneaks out at night, to come to lie with Dean, so he isn’t alone. 

Castiel has a way of driving all of Dean’s bad dreams away, Dean loves him for it. Although that’s not the only reason Dean loves Castiel. 

He loves everything about him; the way his eyes crinkle up when he smiles, the way he purses his lips when he’s concentrating, the way he turns on the faucet whenever he pees, because he doesn't like to hear himself, or for others to hear him. 

He loves him, and he can’t help himself. 

He just hasn't told him, he doesn't know how, but he can’t imagine a day without him. 

It doesn't matter that they have to hide from Castiel’s father, or that Dean sometimes has to help Cas pay for the minutes on Castiel’s phone, so they can talk whenever Cas is supposedly in the shower. None of it matters as long as Dean has Castiel.

***************

The day Dean saw Cas’ scars, was the first time he’d cried, since the day he told him about Sammy. 

They were in Dean’s apartment, sitting on the bed, and Dean had just gotten out of the shower. Cas noticed a large purplish scar along Dean’s knee and he reached out to place two fingers along it. Dean jumped. 

“What’s that, Dean?” 

Clearing his, now thickened, throat, he shrugged. 

“Just from the accident. I broke my knee. They had to put it back in my leg.” 

Cas sucks his teeth, imagining the pain Dean must have gone through. 

He bends down and kisses his knee, earning a weak smile from Dean, as he tries to hide his leg from Cas. 

“Don’t.” 

Cas rests his hand on Dean’s knee and looks up at him. 

“I have some too…”

His voice is quiet, and Dean’s heart jump-starts, “Some what, Cas?” 

“Scars.” 

The word is whispered, as if it’s lethal, and Cas pulls off his shirt.

Dean’s voice catches in his throat, as he gazes upon all of the dark scars on Castiel’s torso.

Ranging from deep red, to purple, they were unmistakably scars. Dean’s hand trembles as he reaches up to touch a fresh mark, recently scabbed over and flushing an angry red. 

“Cas, what happened?” 

Tears in his eyes, Dean’s hand drops, to grip Cas’. Castiel’s voice is weak, “My dad, he... isn't the nicest person. Some of them are from punishments he gives me….Some are from punishments I give myself.” 

Dean catches Castiel’s eye before the gorgeous blues purposely turn away, avoiding Dean's gaze.

“What do you mean ‘punishments I give myself’? Are…Are you saying you do that to yourself?” 

Cas’ face is red, full of shame and anger at himself, not exactly sure why, he nods an answer to Dean. 

Dean's face cracks, tears leaking out of, seemingly, every pore. He grasps at Castiel's hands.

“Cas, please. Please promise me you won’t do that again.” 

“I can’t, Dean. I can’t promise that.” 

Dean’s on the verge of a breakdown, now. 

“Please promise you’ll try, at least try?” 

Castiel nods, wanting so badly to wipe the sadness out of Dean’s heart; it hurts even more knowing he’s the cause of that sadness sitting heavily on Dean’s soul. 

“I promise, Dean.” 

Lying in each other’s arms, Dean traces the lines of Castiel’s scars, causing both of their hearts to jump erratically. T

hey sleep soundly, tucked into one another’s sides like the yin to yang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was so short, guys. I didn't realize the whole thing was this short, until i posted it.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Dean awakes in the morning, alone. 

Assuming Cas had to leave, probably having to do with his father. 

Damn, Dean hated Cas’ dad. He was such a dick. Cas couldn’t do anything, and Dean couldn’t do anything about it. Couldn’t do anything but hold Cas, whenever he showed up with a black eye, or bruised ribs. It sickened Dean. He couldn’t fix it, couldn’t protect him. All he could do was kiss the pain away. Give Cas a reason to smile, just like Cas had done for him. 

And boy had he. Dean couldn’t remember smiling this much, not since Sammy was alive. 

It was great to be himself again, be able to talk about Sammy without wanting to rip his own heart out.

A knocking on the door rose Dean from the depths of his mind. 

The door opens, and Jo barges in before Dean can get off the bed to even go open it, “Winchester, what the fuck?” 

Obviously she was mad, at what, Dean didn’t know. 

“Hi, Jo, how’re you?” 

Ignoring the niceties she glares at him, her arms crossed across her chest. 

“What’s this I hear about you dating Castiel Novak?”

Dean shrugs, “What about it?” 

Jo scowls at his normalcy, “Is it true?” 

Dean nods. Jo’s voice is louder this time, “WHAT THE FUCK, DEAN? You’re supposed to be my friend, why didn’t you tell me? You know I don’t like Castiel.” 

Sickened, Dean stands up, nose to nose with Jo, “We are friends, but honestly, what’s it your business if I date Cas or not? You wanted me to “get laid” right? Are you really mad because I didn’t tell you, or is it because it’s not you, that I’m dating?” 

The anger falls from Jo’s face and she steps back as if she’d been slapped.

“Fuck you, Dean. You’re not that great. You know I don’t like him.” 

“Oh really? I didn’t know that, actually. Did you already have a reason for disliking him, or is it a new-found dislike?” 

Staring at her incredulously, Dean swaps feet. Jo looks down, and curses before flipping Dean off and stalking to the door. 

“Fuck you, Winchester. Have fun with your little faggot.” 

Dean’s in front of Jo in the blink of an eye, his hand around her neck, pressing her up, into the closed door of his apartment, “Never call him that again. I don’t care how much you hate him, or how much you want me. If I ever hear you call him that again, you won’t need this pretty little throat.” 

Jo’s eyes are huge, as her feet are set back on the floor. 

She rubs her throat, glaring at Dean as she opens the door, slamming it behind her, throwing a disgusted look at the oldest Winchester. 

Dean walks to the bed and sits with his head in his hands. 

Cas is gonna be pissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is even shorter than the last one! ARGHGHGHGHGH. I'm so sorry guys. If any of you've actually stuck around, thank you so much! I promise i'll make them longer from now on!!!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Later that same day, Castiel had come to visit him before Dean had to rush off to his second job. 

They were sitting on the bed, and Dean was surprised. 

After explaining what happened between he and Jo earlier, all Castiel could do was laugh. 

Dean stared with suspicion, watching Cas clutch his stomach in a joyful pain. 

“Oh wow. Really?” 

Laughing Cas sits up, “You almost choked her out because she called me a faggot?” 

Dean nods, a blush rising up from his chest, there go the butterflies again. 

“Why, Dean?” 

Shrugging, embarrassed, Dean looks up to meet Cas’ eyes, “I didn’t like her saying that about the guy I….” 

“The guy you what, Dean?” 

Nervous, Dean takes a breath, “The guy I care most about. I don’t like that word, and she’s not gonna get away with saying shit like that, about you.” 

Cas laughs softly, sliding his arm around Dean’s waist. 

“Dean, I am a faggot. I agree with you, I don’t like that word either, but it’s true. You don’t have to protect me, I can handle myself. Okay?” 

Disbelief crosses Dean’s face and he shakes his head, placing a hand on Castiel’s torso, over one of his more pronounced scars, “Are you sure you can take care of yourself, Cas?” 

Nodding, Castiel leans in and puts his mouth close to Dean’s ear, “I’m sure, Winchester.” 

Dean’s heart jumps into his throat, he’s perfect. We’re perfect. Everything’s perfect. 

************

“Dean, are you going to come home smelling like oil again, tonight?” 

Dean laughs,“Yeah, why? Do I need to shower before you come back over?” 

Cas shoots him a dirty look, shaking his head, hard. 

“No! I mean…No. I said I like the smell of it, especially on you.” 

Dean kisses Castiel’s cheek, jaw, neck, and earlobe. 

“What is it you like about it?”

A shiver controls Castiel’s body, causing his voice to shake, as he answers, “It makes you smell all manly, and strong.” 

Dean pushes Cas away playfully, “So, I’m not manly if I don’t smell like the shop?” 

“Noooo, Dean. That’s not it…. It makes me feel safe.” 

Cas sighs, feeling the memories cloud his mind. 

“Explain, Castiel.” 

Dean’s lips forming over his name, he trusted Dean. He wanted them to know everything about each other, everything. Castiel hesitantly launched forward into a memory, a memory of fear and contentedness, all in one. 

*********

A young Castiel, maybe four or five, takes his normal hiding place down in the garage, hiding between his father’s car and the tall, floor-to-ceiling shelf, for cover. 

He’s crouched sitting on his bum, with his knees covering his face and his hands on his head. Rocking back and forth he sings softly to himself, a song his mother used to sing him to sleep with. 

“Hey Jude, don’t be afraid, you were made to go out and get her…” 

His voice is soft, filling with tears, “Hey Jude, don’t be afraid, you were made to go ou-…” 

“C’mere you little bastard!” 

A voice calls out loudly, angrily. 

His father’s drunken tone interrupts Castiel’s singing. 

Upon hearing him stumble around in the kitchen, Castiel’s nervousness shows, he begins to fidget. 

The fridge is opened and you can hear the tab on, what Cas assumes is a beer, being cracked loudly. 

The door slams, footsteps fall close to the garage door. Hinges creak and a loud thump is heard. Castiel sighs silently, feeling a sense of relief spread through his anatomy.

Castiel knows that sound, he's heard it quite often in his house, since his mother's gone. 

That familiar sound is settling. 

Castiel's father's gotten so drunk he's fallen down the stairs again. 

Opening the door, Cas sees his father, snoring loudly, beer spilled out of his hand onto his pants, resembling a urine stain. 

Sneaking carefully by his father Castiel runs up to his room as silently, yet as quickly, as he can. 

Sitting on his bed he begins singing again, “Hey Jude, don’t be afraid. You were made to go out and get her…” 

Breathing deeply, Cas can still smell the scent of oil from the car’s leak. 

Somehow it got on his pants. 

The scent lulls him to sleep, keeping him from the dark, deep nightmares that crush his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so, I know I promised longer chapters, but i had already pre-written 13 chapters of this fic! So i'm just posting them as-is and then the new ones, i'll try to make them longer!!! Thanks for hanging on, if you have! Feel free to comment your ideas!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

It breaks Dean’s heart that he has to leave Castiel, but it breaks his heart even more to know that Cas has to hide, fucking hide, from his dad. What kind of father would do that to his son? Beat them so regularly, the kid feared for his life every time the two were alone together? 

He sighs deeply, tightening his hands on the steering wheel, a tremor making his heart twinge. 

Dean’s dad wasn’t much better. 

After his and Sammy’s parents got divorced, John started drinking. 

Mary had been the only good thing to happen to him and whenever she finally saw that John wasn’t worth the shit he raked out, she left as quick as she could. Leaving Sam and Dean in her wake. Left them to deal with a drunken John. Half the time, John wouldn’t even wake up earlier than noon, to go into work. John wasn’t John, anymore. He didn’t care about anyone or anything. 

The boys were lucky Bobby was there for them. Whenever John came home from work in a drunken stupor, if he could manage to keep a job, the boys would run to their Uncle Bobby. He’d let them stay over, cook them dinner, whatever they needed. Bobby even helped Dean buy his very first truck.

Dean can remember quite a few times he went without new school clothes, because Bobby was paying for the supplies and only had enough for one boy. Sammy. 

It was always Sammy. 

Sammy was the smart one, the athletic one, the good one. Dean never let Sammy forget it. 

He did everything in his power to take care of Sammy himself, albeit Bobby helped out until Dean was old enough to find a job, but after that? It was all Dean. 

Dean encouraged Sammy to play baseball. 

Hell, Sammy was Dean’s hero. Is Dean’s hero. 

Just then, it hit him. 

He knew exactly what he was going to do to prove to Cas that Dean cared about him. 

Suddenly Dean couldn’t wait for his shift at the diner to be over.

***********

Walking into the diner slinging the grease-stained apron over his neck, grabbing the ties he wraps them around himself twice before tying them into bunny ears. 

Why was everything he wore, covered in grease? 

Dean smiled when he realized, Castiel liked grease. 

Dean shook his head before walking into the back, to take over for Rufus. Happily, Rufus left the grill, open and fire-hot, to Dean so he could take his leave. 

The smell of cooked meat, and greasy French-fries filled Dean’s nose. A glorious smell, with an even better sight.

Ellen walked in with a smug smile on her face. 

“Dean Winchester, what’s this I hear about you dating a boy? Some Castiel Novak?”

Dean groaned loud enough to be heard by Ellen, “Not you, too. I’m assuming Jo told you. You aren’t mad too, are you?” 

His voice is slightly nervous, awaiting Ellen’s reply; he flips one burger, two burgers. 

Silence. 

Fuck, he’s pissed off Ellen too. 

She comes around to stick her head through the little kitchen window and shakes it vigilantly. 

“No honey, I ain’t mad. I’m actually happy you found someone you care for. You should bring ‘em ‘round so we all can meet him.” 

“Yeah, Winchester, bring ‘em ‘round! I wanna see this ‘Castiel’ feller, make sure he’s treatin’ you good.” 

Dean smiles fondly at the second voice, “Alright Ash, I’ll be sure to do, just that.” Dean hears a snicker before it’s replaced with the sound of Ash’s laptop keyboard being smacked. What a guy, so damn smart, but he has no common sense, Dean shakes his head, looking back at Ellen. 

“Do you know why Jo’s so mad? I mean, you’re cool with it, why can’t she be, too?” 

The sigh in Ellen’s voice is just what Dean’s afraid of, he knew it was coming. 

The mom lecture. 

He’s never been prepared for Ellen’s mom lecture. 

“Dean, she’s just upset is all. You know how she feels about you and has felt about you, since you were kids. She don’t wanna see you with anybody else.” Dean depicts hints of sadness in her voice but he ignores them. 

“Honestly Ellen, I thought she’d gotten over me by now. She knows I’m gay; there ain’t any other way around it. How’s she gonna be mad at me for somethin’ I can’t help?” 

Shrugging, Ellen goes back to the counter, hearing the sound of the cash register ding, Dean awaits a response. It doesn’t come.


End file.
